Sherlock: Lost Mind
by Jutta Sherlocked Holmes
Summary: What happened to Sherlock? Everything changes as John discovers his friend terrified and confused in his room... because Sherlock Holmes, the famous Consulting Detective, has lost his memory. *Set after the first series, before the Reichenbach Fall*
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Please notice that this is all fictional - I don't have real medical knowledge about amnesia, so take this in case of doubt as fantasy. Also, I hope you excuse possible language misstakes - I'm from germany, I try my best, but mistakes happen ;) I'm not sure where I'll finally end with this story, but I hope you enjoy reading it and leave a review, that would be great :) But know, let's start:**

_Sherlock: Lost Mind_

_Chapter One_

As I woke up this morning I had no idea how the things would change. It was early, and Sherlock wasn't awake yet. I put on my clothes and took a look into the fridge - where I found nothing eatable, just a severed leg, once again. So I decided to go to the supermarket and buy some food. I was just a few minutes back at 221b, but still I had no chance to eat because now the door bell rang, and Mrs. Hudson came upstairs with a young man, thin and pale, who looked around unsecure. I glanced at him and then just asked: "Client?"  
He nodded._ Okay, time for Sherlock to get up._ I pointed at the chair in our living room and said: "Please, sit down."  
"Sorry, are you Mr. Holmes?", the client asked.  
"No. But I'm his colleague. Friend." The man gave me this special glance and I sighed. Why did everyone always think that Sherlock and I were a couple - 'cause we were not! "Wait a moment."  
I went to Sherlock's bedroom and knocked. "Sherlock! We've got a client. Maybe an interesting case." That was just what we needed. Both of us. The last week had been hell. Sherlock had been bored, and bored means annoying. Terribly annoying.  
"Who are you?" The voice that replied was the one of my friend, but it sounded strange. Terrified. Afraid.  
"Sherlock... is everything alright?"  
The answer was a loud gasping and sobbing. Enough for me. I opened the door. "Sherlock, what is it?" Then I swallowed and looked at the strange situation.  
There he was, Sherlock Holmes, sitting in the corner of the room, and stared into my face with fear. "Who are you?", he asked again. His curly hair was disheveled and his face was pale as paper.  
"Okay, Sherlock, what is it?", I wanted to know and frowned. "Some sort of experiment? Listen, we've got a client, and I don't..."  
"What is this all about - Sherlock, who's Sherlock? Me? I don't know, I don't know anything, and I don't know who you are and where I am - and who I am..." He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. I swallowed again. _Dear lord, this time it really doesn't seem to be a joke._ Something had happened, and now it seemed like Sherlock Holmes, the man who always saw and knew everything, had lost his memory.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sherlock: Lost Mind_

_Chapter 2_

I ran out of the bedroom and sent the client home. Then I called Mrs. Hudson. While she came upstairs, I hurried back to my friend who still sat in the corner of the room, staring in the air. "Sherlock", I said with a soft voice. "What happened to you?" He didn't answer, he just closed his eyes and shook his head. After a few moments he looked at me. "Please, tell me - who are you? Who am I? Please, tell me that everything is alright, that I'm just having a nightmare... my head - hurts-"  
I heard the voice of Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen. "John - John, is everything alright?"  
"We're here" I yelled.  
"What's up? What are you doing in there, boys?", she asked and smiled as she came in. "Oh, dear - Sherlock, look at you - are you okay?"  
"Who is she?" My friend sighed again and shook his head strongly. "Is she... our mother... are we brothers...?"  
"Oh, John, what happened to him?" Mrs. Hudson asked and looked terrified at Sherlock.  
"I don't know. But somehow, it seems, Sherlock has lost his memory - listen, Sherlock, this is Mrs. Hudson, our housek- landlady. And our friend. I'm John, John Watson, your best friend. And you are Sherlock Holmes, the best and wisest man I know, so, please, tell me that you remember!"  
But Sherlock just looked at me, confused, and shrugged his shoulders. "No. I don't - I don't know, I don't remember anything. But, please, help me."  
"Yes, of course! Don't worry, we manage this. Mrs. Hudson, could you make some tea, please?"  
She went downstairs without a further word, still looking terrified.  
But Sherlock's thought about us being brothers brought me to another idea. Mycroft.  
I took my mobile phone and called his brothers' number. "John", said the familiar voice. "So, tell me, what happened?"  
For one second I actually wondered how he could know. Then I just said: "It's Sherlock."  
"Obviously."  
"Something happened to him. He doesn't remember anything."  
"What do you mean?" Mycroft answered with confusion in his voice.  
"Well, I mean that he doesn't know who he is nor where he is nor who I am."  
At the other end of the phone line there was silence. "I still don't understand", was finally the answer.  
I snorted. "Neither do I. But maybe you just could come here, please, and help your brother, Mycroft!"  
Another silence. I watched Sherlock who had his eyes closed and, obviously, tried to remember.  
"I'm coming" Mycroft said slowly and rang off.  
"Okay, Sherlock. Come with me. Your brother will be here soon - his name is Mycroft, any bells ringing?", I said while I helped him to get up. My friend just shook his head and I carefully led him into the living room. He sat down in his chair and I couldn't resist a little smile. "Well, you chose the right chair, that's good, isn't it? Look, this is the place where you normally sit. I sit here. You're a consulting detective, and we solve crimes together."  
"Consulting detective..." he repeated with a dry voice while he was looking around. "A skull...", he murmured as he discovered 'Billy' on the fireplace. "What kind of person am I?"  
"Well-" Good question. Clever, but an annoying idiot to other people - should I tell him that?! "You're very, very clever... not always a person easy to handle with..."  
I thought of what to do now. Well, it was necessary to get him to a doctor. A specialist.  
Mrs. Hudson returned with a cup of nice-smelling tea. "Here you go, Sherlock. Your favorite tea", she said in a soothing voice.  
My friend took the cup hesitantly and sipped. "Thank you... Mrs. Hudson...?"  
"Strange to see him like that", she murmured and turned to me. "Have you phoned his brother?"  
"Yes. He's coming. Maybe he's any helpful, just this once."


	3. Chapter 3

_Sherlock: Lost Mind_

_Chapter 3_

Mycroft was there just a few minutes later. He tried to hide his worry but I could see it in his usually so emotionless face. He looked at his brother and murmured: "He's not joking. Obviously."  
"Of course he's not!" I replied sharply. "Was this what you thought when I called you - that Sherlock is _joking_?!"  
He glanced at me. "Could have been one of his... 'experiments'."  
I gasped. "Are you serious?!"  
"Calm down, John - good morning, dear brother. You really have no idea who I am, have you?"  
Sherlock sighed. "Not at all, well, you're my brother, obviously, but actually-" He shrugged his shoulders.  
"Yes, I see. Well, I'm Mycroft, your elder brother, the smart one out of us both, and I think you have to go to a doctor." He looked at me. "Happened anything to him in the last days - any sort of sign or early symptom for... _this_?"  
I shook my head. "Nothing. Really nothing. Our last week was terribly... boring, and Sherlock was as annoying as always at such times."  
"Annoying? I'm annoying?" Sherlock interrupted.  
"Oh, don't worry about that", Mycroft said with a slight smile on his face. Then he looked at me again. "Get him to a doctor. A neurologist perhaps. I'll give you the address of a good one, wait for my text. You will tell me when there's anything new, won't you, John?"  
"Of course, Mycroft", I answered and watched him go downstairs.  
"So... that's my brother..." Sherlock murmured.  
"Jup. Mr. Mycroft Holmes, the british government." My friend gave me a confused look. "Oh, Sherlock, you'll understand."  
"Hmm..."  
My phone made a noise and I read the text of Mycroft - a name and an address. Being a doctor myself, I already had heard this famous name - Dr. Frank Willows. "So, I'll get you to this doctor, is it okay for you?"  
"Well... I think it's necessary", Sherlock answered with an unsecure face.  
"Okay. Come on, you have to put your clothes on." My friend wore, as usually in the mornings, his pajamas and a gown. Now, he hesitated a few seconds before he got up and went into his bedroom. My stomach rumbled, but that wasn't important now. Sherlock was important.

We sat in the taxi. Sherlock wore his coat and scarf but I saw that he felt uncomfort in it. Like a stranger I surmised. He stared out of the window, thinking, and it was nearly like usual when we went to a crime scene, until I heard him murmuring: "Sherlock Holmes... Mycroft Holmes... John Watson..." Suddenly, he looked at me. "John _Hamish_ Watson, isn't it?"  
Oh, well. So the first thing Sherlock Holmes remembered was my stupid middle name. But anyway, that was good. "Yes!", I said, smiling. "Anything else?"  
"Well, our address. It's... 221 Baker Street..."  
"221b."  
"Oh."  
"Is there more?"  
Sherlock sighed. "No. I feel empty. Really, really empty. Like someone... has destroyed my hard drive..."  
"Hard drive? You use this word to describe your brain."  
"Really? Oh, well, I must be clever!"  
I snorted. Couldn't be that bad with him. There he started again to show off!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews :) Here we go, next chapter:**

_Sherlock: Lost Mind_

_Chapter 4  
_

Soon we sat in the surgery of Dr. Willows. I wasn't surprised as he told me that he had already expected us.  
The consulting room was very nice and pleasant. There was an old, wooden desk with two chairs in front of it. In one of them I sat now, while Sherlock was situated on a more comfortable armchair. He looked nervously all around the room during the few moments we had to wait.  
"Well, Mr. Holmes", Dr. Willows began. He sat down next to Sherlock and watched him closely. "Total amnesia... let's take a look... it came suddenly... no early symptoms...?"  
"That's right", I answered. Dr. Willows glanced at me. "Ah. You must be Mr. Watson-"  
"_Dr._ Watson.", I interrupted.  
"Of course. Mr. Mycroft Holmes told me that you would be with his brother. Well, _Dr._ Watson, I trust your opinion. No early symptoms, okay. So, Mr. Holmes, what happened this morning when you woke up?"  
Sherlock closed his eyes for a few moments, then his glimpse wandered quickly over Dr. Willows. I wasn't sure but it looked like he tried to deduce the neurologist. Then he answered: "Well, maybe I should mention that I woke up out of-" He glanced at me sketchily. "...out of a dream. Can't remember anything that happened in there... and then, when I was awake, I had this feeling of disorientation, and I just had no idea of who I am, where I am, anything. I still can't remember; Sherlock Holmes is just how everyone seems to call me, and if it would be a lie, I wouldn't know."  
I really wanted to tell him that it wasn't a lie, that he could trust me, but I remained silent, I just swallowed and felt a pain in my heart.  
"Except", Sherlock continued slowly. "There's one thing. One word. It was in my head when I woke up, I don't understand its meaning... just this word..."  
"Sherlock", I whispered now. "Why... why did you not tell me?" My friend shrugged his shoulders.  
"Tell us now", said Dr. Willows and leaned forward to him. I saw how Sherlock hesitated, throwing glances at me. "Is it him?", the neurologist asked and nodded in my direction. "Do you want him to go?"  
I panted, opened my mouth to say something. But Sherlock just made an apologizing face and nodded. "What?", I asked disbelieving. "Sherlock - I'm your friend, we are best friends, and maybe I understand this word-"  
"Dr. Watson, you better wait out of the room", said Dr. Willows.  
"But-"  
"John!" Now Sherlock spoke. He looked at me and sighed. "Listen, John. I... I don't know who I am - I don't know who you are. To me, you're not my best friend, not now, because I just can't remember... I'm sorry, but I really think it's better..." His head sank down, helpless. "Please, John."  
I sighed. "Yes. I understand. It's okay. So, if you need me, I'll be in the waiting room."

I waited. I really tried not to be angry or jealous, but I couldn't fight those feelings. Sherlock always trusted me. Always. And now... _"To me, you're not my best friend, not now..."_ Oh, it hurt.  
So I just sat there, waiting, staring at the patterned wallpaper. After a while, Dr. Willows opened the door, and Sherlock stepped out of the room. He was so pale, much paler than he is anyway. In his hands he held some papers, and Dr. Willows pointed at the reception. "Here you go, my secretary will do the bureaucratic stuff." Sherlock nodded slowly and went to the anteroom. Dr. Willows waved me over.  
"Yes?", I asked, still angry.  
"Listen - you're a doctor, you know best about the confidentiality. But I know Mycroft Holmes, I know his influence, and he must trust you if he wants you to keep an eye on Mr. Sherlock Holmes. So, maybe... maybe I should tell you the word that your friend mentioned." Now I got really curious. "Yes?", I asked low voice.  
"I have no idea what it means. Probably a name-", Dr. Willows began, and then he stopped as he saw Sherlock return from the anteroom.  
"John, I'm ready, we can go...", my friend said.  
"Coming", I answered, my eyes on Dr. Willows. He hesitated for a moment, but then he leaned forward and whispered the mysterious word in my ear before turning away.  
"What is it, John? Dr. Willows?", Sherlock asked impatiently.  
"Alright, alright, on my way!", I answered without showing any sign of what I just had heard.  
"Good bye, Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson", said Dr. Willows, and then we went off.  
My throat was dry, and I stared forward. I was not even listening to Sherlock. I just thought of what Dr. Willows said.  
The word, this only thing that Sherlock had remembered when he woke up this morning... it was "Moriarty".


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Thanks again for your reviews, that means much to me. I'm sorry that you have to wait for new chapters; the first parts I already had written, but my mind works slowly sometimes until I get the right ideas... however, next chapter, here you go :)  
**

_Sherlock: Lost Mind_

_Chapter 5_

Another taxi. We both were silent, both thinking of different things. Or maybe not so different. Moriarty, James Moriarty, the consulting criminal that Sherlock and I met once at this swimming pool. I never forgot this frightening encounter. And now his name in Sherlock's mind, Sherlock's lost mind. It made me shiver.  
We were still not on our way home but on our way to another specialist who should make some special tests with Sherlock's brain. As we arrived, I had to wait outside once again, but this time it was the doctor's order and actually, Sherlock gave me a terrified glance before he went into the consulting room.  
Finally, my friend got the information that there was nothing physically wrong with his brain... but there were still a few tests which had to be analyzed. Now he just should get some rest and try to remember simple things like names of friends and family.

Back in 221b Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes sat in his armchair, his eyes closed. I saw how exhausted he was, the man who never was exhausted. It made me feel so helpless, so lost... more than ever before I wished that Lestrade would show up with a difficult case, and Sherlock would be just the same as always.  
"Hoo-hoo!" Not Lestrade, but Mrs. Hudson. She entered with two filled plates. "I thought you might be hungry", she said and glanced at Sherlock worried. My friend opened his eyes and gave me an unsecure glimpse.  
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson", I answered our landlady. I actually was really hungry by now. We managed it to clean the kitchen table far enough to be able to eat from it.  
Sherlock still sat in his chair. "Come on!", I said encouragingly. "You have to eat something, Sherlock."  
"Yes...", he answered slowly, and finally he got up and came to the kitchen. He looked around, and suddenly there was some curiosity in his eyes. "Does... the kitchen always look like this?", he asked and pointed at all the chemicals and the microscope.  
"Yeah, your stuff. Hungry? Don't try to find something eatable in fridge, there are just body parts!"  
Sherlock smiled. "I'm not... a kind of ordinary person, am I?"  
"Oh no, you're not, Sherlock!"  
He laughed, and I looked at Mrs. Hudson. In her face I saw the same relief I felt.  
We sat down and ate. Mrs. Hudson left us alone, and soon Sherlock started to ask questions about our lives. I told him just general things at first, but then I started to describe some of our cases and adventures, hoping that he would remember some random detail... but he didn't. I felt as if I told the stories to a strange person. Sherlock was now a strange person to me - and I was to him. He didn't say anything, not like he did while we were at Dr. Willows, but I saw it, I felt it.

The day passed slowly. Mycroft showed up again and left with an upset, nervous face expression. Sherlock and I had a little walk, and my friend made some of his usual deductions - finally a good sign!  
At last, the night came. We were sitting in our armchairs at the fireplace and hadn't said anything for a while.  
"Sherlock...", I murmured. It took a while until he reacted.  
"John... what is it?"  
"It's late, and it has been a... strange, difficult day. I think we both need some sleep."  
"Yeah... probably..."  
I stood up. "You'll be alright?", I asked.  
Slowly, he looked up to me. "Sure... John..."  
"Really?"  
He bit his lip and ruffled his hair. Then he got up, too, and said nervously: "I'm afraid - I'm afraid of the sleep, I'm afraid of waking up tomorrow - what if I forget this day, too? What if-"  
"Stop it!", I interrupted. "Hey, Sherlock, that's not going to happen, okay? You will be alright tomorrow... maybe tomorrow _everything_'s fine..."  
"You think so?", my friend asked and gave me an unsecure glance.  
"I hope so. And now, Sherlock Holmes, it's bedtime. It - will be - alright!"


End file.
